Nemesis Calling
by dreamerchaos
Summary: Sequel to ‘All Hail Starscream’. The time is finally at hand…return to Earth, destroy the descendant of the Primes, and harvest the Earth. Perceptor must decide whether to betray his master or warn and aid the Autobots. StarscreamxPerceptor.
1. Chapter 1

Title: Nemesis Calling (1/?)

Author: dreamerchaos  
Sequel to 'All Hail Starscream'

Fandom: 'Revenge of the Fallen'.  
Rating: Slash. R. Dubious consent and gore thrown into several parts. Each chapter will have respective warnings.  
Pairing: StarscreamxPerceptor.  
Disclaimer: All recognizable characters are owned by Hasbro.  
Characters: Perceptor. Starscream. Various characters from the movie as well.

* * *

Summary: The time is finally at hand…return to Earth, destroy the descendant of the Primes, and harvest the Earth. Perceptor must decide whether to betray his master and warn the Autobots, and thus endanger the risk of suffering Starscream's wrath.

The blue computer screens relay the flood of data that the satellites stream from outer space, tracking the unidentified flying object careening towards the United States. Voices shouting over the thrum of downloading computer terminals, crisp uniformed soldiers in their seats curtly sending orders through the speaker phones of the comm. systems.

"Monitor its path!" The commander orders the calm, polished faces of the technicians and computer specialists. "Get the NEST team assembled and ready to deploy!"

From outside the base of command, one of Lennox's men listens to the sequence of codes being shouted over the link by the security team. Their worst fears confirmed when the radio specialist blanches, neatly yanking the head piece loose when he tosses the microphone and ear pieces onto the dashboard, spinning around to address his superior officer.

"It's confirmed! Bogey! Coming in hot!"

Major Lennox's team scrambles, locking and loading their weapons as they jump into the military humvees.

"Talk to me, Marco." Lennox hops into the black NEST Hummer and then pops out of the port hatch in the roof, while another soldier jumps into the back of the vehicle modified cab in order to man the small saber gun.

A scout repeats the coordinates garbled through his handheld radio, "Non-organic life form. Just broke through the stratosphere. The pod will land twenty miles due east from these coordinates." He lays out the latitude and longitude.

"All right, you heard the man!" Lennox smacks the flat of his gloved hand on the rooftop of the military Hummer, Epps yanking out and spreading the map of the area surrounding the land site, cursing at the tangle of forest roads and hilltops that the team will have to traverse to reach the site. "The Autobots are converging and are within a ten mile range of the bogey. It's a bumpy ride, ladies, so keep your hands and feet inside the vehicle at all times. We need to move our asses and follow them!"

"Slagging Decepticons," Ironhide growls, pouring on the gas, flattening the pedal to keep up with Optimus Prime, "They're sending more soldiers, no matter how many we keep finding and deactivating throughout this planet already."

"Let us hope that this time we can intervene before this one disappears off the radar as well." The Prime speaks calmly, the breaker against the tide of frustration and fury, resolutely ignoring his weapon specialist's subsonic growl, the black mech snarling and itching for a fight.

"Optimus," Arcee smoothly glides around the two larger mechs, her purple and blue sisters flanking her, "The pod has landed. Just over that hill." Her holographic driver gestures past the rolling green hilltop that the team steadily approachs.

"Use extreme caution, my friends." Optimus Prime warns, "We do not know the designation nor weaponry systems of this foe, and I do not want any of us having to scrape up any comrades because of the mistake of underestimating our opponent."

"SIR!" The Autobots salute their patron with the ringing of their loud vocal tribute.

* * *

The ripping heat shredding away the metal flanks of his escape pod drags a sharp cry from Perceptor, the lean cobalt and blue frame curling tighter within the metal womb of the pod's inner casings.

Breaking through the planet's atmosphere is taking its toll on the escape pod. In the back of his processor, he notes the screaming red data windows and warnings of imminent impact with one of the planet's large land masses.

When the pod hits the crest of a mountain, the impact sends it spiraling out of control, bouncing across a much smaller hilltop, and then tearing a deep groove down the the face of the hill, organic foliage crushed and tangling with the compact pod, scorching metal searing the green flora black.

His equilibrium circuits are off kilter as the pod finally rolls to a slow stop, falling into a small natural bowl nestled amongst the looming trees. Small flickering fires trailing the pod's path through the forest, metal pinging with the heat and pressure as the pod's casing begins to finally cool down.

As fast as his rattled equilibrium will allow, Perceptor throws his shoulder against the melted and bent emergency hatch, popping the frame open, and the microscope scrabbles free from inside the escape pod, tumbling head over pedes and collapsing onto the uneven ground. Wheezing from the oppressive heat still pouring from the pod, steam billowing around him, Perceptor shakily rises onto his pedes, warily scrutinizing the strange organic foliage around him, and the few curious fauna that peek out from their shelters, eyeing the tall metal stranger.

Nervous by the attention, even if they were such small, inconsequential creatures, Perceptor still can't shake the feeling that he needs to hide and take cover elsewhere. Immediately.

The ground is…strange to him. A complex mixture of rough and soft, patches of moss causing his pedes to sink down as if stumbling into a small pool of quicksand. He shakes his pede, trying to shake off the persistent foliage.

"Curious." He wonders, circling widely around the tall trees, the scientist never having seen such an organic life form, and he isn't certain whether it is safe to touch and use his sensitive, dexterous hands to explore the surface and structure of the towering lush green giants.

Edging towards the other side of the patch of forest, he pauses. Shaken by a strange sensation stirring up his back strut, warning him that he is no longer alone.

"Come on, Decepticon punk!" Perceptor yelps and narrowly dodges two shorter mechs who barrel out of the cover of the trees, branches exploding around them, their warrior cry sending the few fauna scattering for their lives. One of the strange mechs is a vibrant green and the other a pumpkin shade, the twins cursing and spilling across the ground when they miss their opponent.

"Jerk!" Skids sharply smacks his brother across the back of his helm, "You made me miss!"

"Slagger, it was yer fault!" Mudflap pounces, the twins tussling and now ignoring the 'Decepticon' they had tried to ambush.

Arcee shoots out from the trees, her sisters following and circling the stranger. Noting in unsurprised dissatisfaction that the twins have blown their cover when ordered to hold their ground and monitor the newcomer. Arcee takes over for them before the twins risk finding themselves facing a blaster or a blade, the red and cobalt mech appearing to possess no weapons, perhaps excluding the scope on his shoulder, but she is not willing to risk their lives on a guess.

"Don't move!" The femme warns, aiming her blaster at the taller, slim mech.

Perceptor hastily raises his hands in surrender, shrinking when his optics stare down the silver barrel of the weapon, "I-I am unarmed!" He cringes away, especially when the other two femmes release their sheathed blades mounted into the overlapped plating of their wrists.

Arcee's gaze narrows. Trying to make head or tails of the stranger, the mech sheepishly bowing in submission; his hands raised above his helm, and long, well jointed legs nervously shuffling, black helm bobbing in confusion, his blue gaze flickering from the arguing twins and the three femmes circling him. "…Where is your insignia?" She demands.

"My…insignia?" Perceptor's optics blink, helm tilting, frowning at the question, and then realizing what she is referring to, he responds with an expression of distaste, "I do not ally myself with anyone. I was…I am a Neutral."

"There ain't no Neutrals, fool!" Skids snaps, giving his brother a swift, final smack against the back of his helm for good measure, Mudflap cursing vibrantly.

Perceptor glares at the crass assumption and the conclusion that the twins have drawn, calling him a liar, "We hid our presence well while we were on Cybertron. My friends and I were few in number, but we managed to hide and scavenge what we could. Until…" He halts, chin dropping, as he whispers, "That is…before _Starscream _found me, and then my friends were taken prisoner."

"Starscream?" Arcee parrots, glaring in distrust and a healthy measure of disbelief, "You survived an encounter with **him**?"

Perceptor sighs, "If you call 'surviving' as being outfitted and placed under his care as his favored _pet_." His hand raises to brush his throat, fingertips tapping the gleaming surface of a nearly invisible collar, distinguished only by the brief flash of light against the mercury metal and elegant calligraphy when Perceptor moves his head so, dark plating stretching just enough for the glitter of light to peak through.

Before Arcee can further interrogate the stranger, the trees creak and groan, Ironhide clearing through the thick branches, his path as elegant as an enraged bull through a china shop, tearing through the heavy fringe of kindling and overgrown bushes, swinging his cannon in the direction of the Neutral. "A Decepticon is still a Decepticon, no matter who his master is!" The weapon specialist charges up his weapon.

"No!" Arcee shouts, her sister twins jerking in response, waving their hands in panic to try and halt the darker painted Autobot, "WAIT!"

Perceptor drops to his knees and ducks while his hands fly up to cover a makeshift shield over his helm, crying out in terror at the sight of the much larger weapon, the upgraded cannon aiming directly at him.

Optimus Prime barrels forward perpendicular from the older warrior's position, the larger red and blue bedecked flamed mech barely dodging the cannon fire as he scoops up the frozen, terrified Neutral, ducking and rolling with a hail of scorched bark and tumbling, the intense blast enough to topple many of the surrounding undergrowth, the earthquake ripple from the new large scorched hole in the Earth and the shattered, collapsing trees crash down around them. The Prime shielding the Neutral with his much larger frame until the rain of debris stops, and there is no longer a risk of the mech being crushed by the massive fallen trees.

"Lower your weapons, you fool!" Ratchet snaps Ironhide's wrist aside, glaring at the shocked mech, "You'll hit Prime and the Neutral!"

"He's lying! He said he was with Starscream!"

"He said he was Starscream's **pet**." Sideswipe corrects, and Jolt nods in silent agreement, the blue mech stepping beside the leaner silver warrior, echoing the silver mech's affirmative by adding his input, "Big difference," Jolt agrees.

"Not if he was _willing_." Ironhide growls in counter.

Ratchet looks ready to throttle the weapons specialist, the medic scowling, "Keep your hands off the mech and your cannons offline or I'll permanently offline you myself, you over clocked gung-ho idiot!"

Optimus Prime shifts, carefully raising his great frame from above the frightened mech, keeping his weight from crushing the much smaller microscope, "Are you all right?" He whispers, Perceptor's wide, scared blue optics welded to his.

The Neutral can not make his vocoder work properly, static and worried clicks spilling forth. Instead, to answer the Prime's inquiry he brokenly bobs his head, hands shivering upon his helm, still tucked in a duck and cover position.

"Optimus," Jolt steps forward, voice lowered to decrease the chance of spooking the frightened mech, "The humans will be here soon."

"We can't just hand him over to them if he is indeed a Neutral." Arcee argues, familiar with the chain of operations and procedures that would take place if Lennox's team acquired a Cybertronian bearing no alliance, Perceptor automatically labeled as a threat ― his neutrality ostracizing him from his Cybertronian peers, neither an enemy, but most certainly not an ally ― and the humans will not comprehend such an anomaly amongst the faction soldiers who bore their allegiances with duty and pride, "Optimus, Sir, you yourself decreed that Neutrals were to be protected and shielded from the War. Regardless of your decree, the humans will still insist on locking him away. There is also the risk of scientists wanting to examine him, should he bear no allegiance. Without a faction to stand for him, he has no rights or voice to request amnesty, nor deny his imprisonment and the experiments by the humans."

"…I do not wish to lie to Lennox, nor the President of the United States." Optimus Prime contemplates the benefits and the risks of revealing the Neutral to the military. As much as he may wish to trust Lennox and his men, Optimus is not blind to some of Major Lennox and the President; their intents unsavory at best, and not just in the scope that they wished to study the Autobots' weapons technology, no matter how fiercely Optimus refused to buckle to their insistence, regardless how many times they beg or wheedle.

Optimus is watching as Perceptor absorbs the conversation around him. The Neutral's face growing more panicked, trembling as his fate is casually being tossed amongst the Autobot warriors and officers. Witnessing such fear in regards to their behavior, and he immediately feels ashamed, since he and the Autobots were meant to instill respect, to protect and serve, not to terrorize and enslave their brothers and sisters.

Optimus gathers the smaller Neutral within his arms, Perceptor's wide, awed optics blinking in incomprehension as a Prime, _the_ Prime, debases the glory of his title, and subjects himself to carrying the petrified young mech, Optimus speaking his intent to his soldiers with his attention centered on coaxing the microscope to trust him, "However, we will place Perceptor into the care of one of our human allies, until we know the extent of his relationship with Starscream and the other Decepticons."

"What will we tell Lennox?" Ratchet asks, watching as Optimus Prime stands, balancing the stunned Neutral in his arms, the mech still too petrified too move, clinging to the Prime's frame, gaze twitching across the Autobots, ducking his helm against Optimus' shoulder when he locked gazes with the weapons specialist.

"Ironhide's rambunctiousness may work in our favor." The Prime's voice is grim, "The damage from his cannons will disguise any tracks from the pod. We will simply inform Lennox that we found no Decepticon anywhere near the escape pod."

The other Autobots are not completely comfortable with the truth intermixed with the lie, but they still agree that the Neutral should remain outside the government's eye for as long as possible.

* * *

"I hope this is not an inconvenience, Maggie."

"It's all right." She assures, leaning out of her window, quietly whispering to the semi truck parked in her large driveway. "My husband is away for the month in DC. Thanks to this private street and all the acres surrounding the house, Perceptor should be safe."

Optimus Prime settles more due to relief, tires hushing a soft sigh, "The situation is of great concern. Our first meeting…did not turn out well."

"I guessed that." Maggie could hear Perceptor moving restlessly inside the small barn not too far from the house, "He seems a bit shy."

Optimus nods, "He is integrating well, though. Thank you again for providing him with your laptop so that he may peruse the internet for information on this planet."

Maggie chuckled, "I was a bit startled when he started spouting out Japanese and then Arabic, but he seems to be settling down and learning American."

"Once I am certain that it is safe, Ratchet, Ironhide, and I will designate a time period to rendezvous here. We will need to ask Perceptor several questions."

"I'll keep him safe." She grinned, sensing the perplexed look that the Prime directed towards her, the mech confused how one small organic could defend the Neutral, "Trust me, Optimus. No one will know that he is here."

* * *

High above, lurking along the hemisphere of the planet, latched onto the unaware satellite, coiling his frame and tightening embedded tentacles deep throughout its many schematics while he invades its targeting and surveillance systems, Soundwave downloads the streamed images. Ruby optics narrowing, intent upon the digitized image of the Prime leader sitting in the driveway of a large human residence.

Another window pops up across his optical glass. Soundwave purrs, pleased by the data indicated that there is the tell-tale wisp of Cybertronian radiation. A Cybertronian signature.

**Not **originating from the Prime. No. This one is new to him; a stranger to this planet, so far away from Cybertron. A Neutral, from what his scanners can tell.

"_Decepticons: Unidentified Cybertronian located. Threat: Minimal. Observation only until symbiotes have completed current mission." _The mostimmediate of tasks was currently underway. Ravage, the Doctor, and the tiny slew of minobots were stationed to acquire the Allspark shard hidden near the Indian Ocean.

Once they have acquired their prize, and Lord Megatron arose again to stand against the Autobots, Soundwave wanted to find out more about this stranger.

* * *

The human software is embarrassingly slow, compared to Cybertronian.

However, Perceptor is patient and diligent, slowly mapping his way through the beginning of his foray into the internet. The vast web service titillating his processor with the amount of new data he has never explored. The microscope hunched over the small, glowing laptop resting upon the empty crate, meticulously punching each individual key, a moue of distaste marking whenever his fingertips mistaken and hit an incorrect symbol, and Perceptor must waste precious seconds to correct the typo, when he should be continuing his exploration through the web page tabs.

Perceptor accepts that he is becoming obsessed. After so many vorns hiding in the dark catacombs of bunkers and tunnels, the libraries and laboratories sealed and welded shut to intruders, he has been starved of knowledge and exploration. Like an addict tasting the droplets of alcohol after having gone years sober, he dives headlong into his foray, discarding conversation with the young human and needed recharge, focusing his energy on learning as much as he can about the planet he has had to good fortune of crash landing.

It could certainly be worse. Landing on Mars, or Venus, while interesting to explore, would not have been nearly as invigorating or inspiring to study. The humans so complex and unique, and their behaviors and hobbies equally intriguing. Perceptor is quite amazed that Cybertronian scientists never ventured to study this planet and its inhabitants, with all of its variety and qualities.

A small, stray feline mewls in curiosity at the strange metal creature, poking its white and orange head out of a pile of straw, the dry hay stacks creating a bed upon the top level of the barn. The feline gracefully crisscrosses its way down the rafter poles, hopping down onto a short stall wall, and then jumping expertly onto all four paws onto the floor. Venturing close to the mech, it purred, curling around his ankles, twining and rubbing its sable fur against the smooth warm metal.

Perceptor pauses, captured by the rumbling purr originating from such a small creature. Reaching forward, Perceptor stretches his hand outward in entreaty, curling his fingers to touch his palm, clicking softly to try and coax the lean creature forward.

The feline mewls again, butting her head against his fingertips. Perceptor smiles, pleased by the confidence and trust the creature exhibits.

Perhaps a bit too much confidence. He gasps when the feline easily scales up his leg, casually tracking up his arms and onto his shoulder, the cat indulgently curling into the crook of his collar strut, thin rib cage rising and falling as it curls up tight to recharge.

Astonished by such a brazen acquirement of his frame as its newest resting post, Perceptor blinks in sheer amazement. Still…he doesn't possess the Spark to forcefully remove the orange and white feline.

Now mindful of the companion nestled comfortably against him, Perceptor is more careful not to lean too far over and toss the feline off his shoulder.

Optic lens narrowing, focusing on the screen of the compact laptop, he continues to read the minute text. Excitedly pulling up the web links, exploring the Youtube database and videos, while downloading the array of human music, while at the same time reading the data files of news reports that filter through the internet system.

He is quietly impressed by the content that the humans have amassed. For such tiny creatures, they are capable of so much more than meets the eye.

From the huge wood doorway, Maggie tugs the stubborn old doors apart, squeezing into the old barn. "Hey there," She greets her guest, smiling knowingly at the swish of the feline's tail just visible from upon the mech's shoulder, "Made a friend already? She's a prissy little thing. Only lets me pet here when she deigns so, especially after I lay out a plate of tuna for her majesty."

The feline yawns, glancing down upon the human from her high, perched throne.

Maggie shakes her head at the fickleness of the feline species. Turning back to Perceptor, she presents her gift to the nearly sixteen foot tall mech. "Optimus asked me to give you this." Groaning softly at the strain of lifting the heavy, filled red container, she offers the gas tank to the microscope, "He says that he can't transport energon outside the base, but this should suffice for the while," Sloshing the fuel within the red container tantalizingly, the long yellow nozzle rattling and bobbing like the head of a brightly painted serpent.

"…Thank you." Perceptor graciously lays his hands out in acceptance of the gift, bending forward to balance the red plastic tank. Mulishly yowling, the feline disdainfully leaps off his shoulder, jostled from her throne; disappointed to lose her newly acquired resting spot.

Perceptor is befuddled by how to liberate the fuel from the vessel, holding and tilting the container within his hands, until he discovers that with precise pressure and careful turning, he can twist the cap and nozzle free. After placing the nozzle aside, he moves forward to partake in the fuel. Lifting the small red mouth to his lips, the mech cautiously tilts the canister, slowly pouring the contents of the liquid into his oral cavity. The liquid a wonderful bane after so long traveling through space in his escape pod, the jettisoned pod only carrying the minimal dregs of energon to keep its occupant online until the escape vehicle should land on a hospitable planet.

"It must have been hard on you…traveling alone and for so long." Maggie watches Perceptor nearly drown in quiet rapture, draining the gas canister until the last fleeting droplets leave it dry. Perceptor mournfully tilting the empty canister. Attention robbed now that he has finished partaking in sustenance, his optics unwillingly flickers towards her. Uncomfortable with the abrupt change in subject, Perceptor shuffles in place, unsettled, but he manages a sheepish nod to answer her assessment.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Maggie whispers, resting her hands on the mech's knee, offering silent support as she leans against the cobalt and red frame. Perceptor tilts his helm at her inquiry, "I know that it's a bit overwhelming, and we haven't known each other for that long, but it doesn't seem to hurt if someone is willing to listen." She reasons, hating how Perceptor shrinks within himself, falling dead silent, and his processor rerunning the memory files of the cold, dark miles of space he has traversed alone. Confused and analyzing the doubts and fears, the terror of having made a critical error with his plan to try and reach the Autobots on a far, foreign solar system and warn them of the danger that threatens an entire army, and an entire organic species.

"……It is a very long story." He cautions. Gently lowering the empty fuel canister to the dusty ground of the barn floor, Perceptor sits back, leaning against one of the thick support beams. Maggie clambering onto his knee, confidently curling her jeaned legs underneath her while she avidly looks up at the serene black face, her patient narrator beginning his epic story for the first pair of audios outside of Starscream's small interpersonal circle who were intimately familiar with Perceptor and his venture on Cybertron leading to his capture and ownership by the Decepticon Seeker, "Several of your Earth years ago, a friend and I ventured into the city known as Trypticon…"

* * *

Optimus Prime holds many personal skills. One of those many, his persuasive capabilities, and with this skill he employed many times on Cybertron during its Golden Age when the Prime was in conference with the Council or neighboring planetary dignitaries. Negotiating peace and obedience to listen and acknowledge their agreements and differences, while Prime kept his brother, the Lord High Protector, in good patience. Megatron hardly monopolizing his patience to deal with the irritating dignitaries, leaving the mediation to his brother, while scowling over the Prime's shoulder should one dignitary decide to be brave and obstinately question Prime's objective.

Optimus now harnesses his ability for negotiation and persuasion to convince Major Lennox that the Prime and a few of his soldiers needed some downtime away from base, to allow the three the opportunity to explore to continent a bit further at their own leisure. Major Lennox isn't exactly comfortable that the Autobot officers will be away from base, but he has never had reason to mistrust the Prime, so he grants Optimus and his companions their leave.

Almost a week after Optimus delivered her guest to her doorstep, Maggie steps outside her house to meet the Autobots as they rolled onto her driveway, intercepting the three mechs as they transformed into bipedal mode, well hidden far away from the main street, the private estate lined and added with extra security and shielding by the gigantic lush trees and fat, overgrown bushes.

Perceptor gave his permission ― when Maggie asked if he would care if she spoke to the Autobots first, acting in his stead until it was absolutely necessary for him to speak personally with the Prime ― the human trusted to update the Autobots on the information that the mech had provided her. The three listened throughout Maggie's rendition of her talk with Perceptor during the previous night, and the information that the Neutral had revealed.

"He spoke the truth, then." The medic does not deign to point out Ironhide's folly in judging the stranger before actually bothering to get to know him. Ratchet sighs in regret, feeling remorse that Perceptor and so many others still suffered on Cybertron, while the Autobots raged war on a distant planet, unable to provide shelter or assistance while the Decepticons reigned and ruled with an iron fist, choking the civilians and Neutrals who had had the misfortune of not being able to escape before the few remaining impartial cities were captured, and forced to bare the symbol of Decepticon occupation, "Such a pity that he had to suffer losing his friends to the auction block."

"Don't get too complacent." Ironhide warns, not balking beneath the firm glare the medic throws at him, "I'm trying to be the logical voice here! We have to be absolutely sure that we can trust him. I don't feel comfortable introducing him to Lennox's team should he show his true colors, and his credibility fails to meet our requirements."

"So what's next? You're going to interrogate him?" Maggie demands, horrified by the implication, "After everything he's been through?"

Optimus Prime bowed onto one knee, beseeching the agitated femme, "Your avid defense for him is a great comfort, Maggie. Your faith in him is an encouragement to trust what he has said. But still, regardless of any doubt that exists, we must speak with him. He may have the answers that we desperately need. Time is far too precious now, with the Allspark shard stolen, and rumors of Megatron online."

"There are a few missing pieces that need to be answered." Ratchet agrees, joining his leader, "My first question would be: how did he manage to flee from Starscream? The second question: why would he come to Earth, of all places, if he could have hidden anywhere on Cybertron, let alone hide within the vast reaches of the galaxy?"

Maggie sighs, her shoulders drooping, "…Fine. But…Just try not to scare him too much, okay? He's been through enough already."

"That, my friend, I can promise." Optimus bowed his helm, "None of us will lay a hand on him. Our intention is not to harm, but to learn more from our guest and hopefully assist Perceptor in his efforts to remain free from Starscream's possession."

* * *

The barn is far too small to house the three Autobots and the single Neutral. With Maggie's directions to a secluded section of forest nestled on her property, the four mechs carefully tread their way through the trees, out of sight of any man or beast.

"Now, Perceptor," Standing on the crest of the clearing, the rolling forest floor overgrown with foliage and dead, ancient hollowed logs, Optimus Prime kneels down once more, to better alleviate Perceptor's timid shyness, the Neutral a bit overwhelmed by the Prime's looming presence, "I have several questions for you."

Clasping his hands together, Perceptor edges a glance at the medic and the weapons specialist shadowing him. Shrinking away from the darker mech, Perceptor locks his gaze with the majestic Prime's, "I will try my best to answer all of your questions." His subdued words assure the red and blue leader of his compliance.

"How did you manage to escape from Cybertron? And Starscream?"

"…To answer the first question, escaping Cybertron, that was not hard at all. Starscream loaded a few soldiers, and me, onto one of his star cruisers. He planned to land the ship and dock with the Nemesis on an unnamed planet in the nearby solar system. I wasn't given any choice in the matter. Starscream did not trust leaving me alone with his tenants on Cybertron."

"He didn't trust that you wouldn't try and escape?" Ratchet asks.

Perceptor lowers his helm, hand kneading the rim of his throat, "Escape from _Starscream_ is near impossible, even without this damn collar he had placed upon me." Ratchet and the others note the barest gleam of polished silver and the stenciled designation upon the smooth, thin collar wrapped around the smaller mech's dark throat, "My alternate mode has no wings, nor wheels. I have little hope of outpacing him. Starscream concerned himself more with the risk that his soldiers would try and use and manipulate me to dredge up a higher level of status in 'Lord' Starscream's optics."

Ironhide crosses his thick arms, fingers drumming upon the plating hiding his retracted, hidden cannons, a frown marring his dermal plating, asking aloud, "Why would Starscream abandon such a prestigious position among the other Decepticons on Cybertron, in order to move his army elsewhere?"

"Because the Fallen summoned him." Perceptor replies.

"The Fallen?" Optimus echoes, sharing a look with the other Autobots, Perceptor turning his helm left and right, confused by the knowing expression, "Familiar words we heard not too long ago. A very ominous coincidence, wouldn't you think?" He looks to Ratchet and Ironhide, who nod their helms in agreement.

"I never laid my optics on this Fallen." Perceptor continues, "But during the last orn, Starscream has hosted private video conferences with him. Not too long afterward a final transmission from the Fallen, he ordered a small fleet of soldiers to mobilize and prepare for something known as the Harvest."

Optimus Prime's gears groan as he shifts, standing up tall, raising his helm to look up towards the heavens in the direction of Cybertron, digesting the newest information, "So many more questions have arisen." He ponders with a low whisper of regret and strut-deep tiredness, "Starscream's intentions are far from pure. **That** I am certain of. And this Harvest that Perceptor speaks of makes me worry a great deal more about the Decepticon's intents."

"He…Whenever I managed to overhear Starscream…" Perceptor swallows his nervousness, remembering the worry about being caught in the act of listening in, hiding outside the closed room, catching more of the tone of the conversation than the actual words, but Perceptor managed to connect the stray words and incomplete sentence to come up with a conclusion about the topic of discussion, "T-The Fallen and Starscream were discussing the harvesting of _energon_."

"One thing that we know already about the Decepticons' intents: Earth is their target. That much is clear." Ironhide ponders, "But how will they gather the energon, especially enough for the Decepticons still on Cybertron, let alone enough to revive Cybertron?"

"They're trying to revive Cybertron without the Allspark." Ratchet hisses in alarm, optics widening, "Do you have _any_ idea how much energon they would need in order to succeed?"

"It doesn't make sense to me, either." Perceptor admits, forefingers tapping together while he bites his bottom lip in thought, "Starscream was a scientist as well as an aerial warrior before the war. While I was his…" Perceptor halts, noticing how uncomfortable the three Autobots are at the mention of his status as Starscream's possession, but Perceptor can not deny the reality no sooner than he can deny the collar around his neck that binds him to his service, "…While his pet…he ordained the construction of many energon processors, and had them placed on neighboring planets. The energon gathering systems collected energon based on solar power, wind power, each processor depending on the planet it inhabited. I don't understand why he would speak of traveling so far to this particular planet in search of energon, when the other energon processors were powering plenty of energon to sustain all the mechs and femmes who remain on Cybertron, with excess to spare."

"It still troubles me." Optimus Prime paces, gaze lowered to track his footsteps, "We are missing a valuable piece of data. I fear that when we realize the truth of Starscream and this 'Fallen' individual's endeavors, it may be too late for us to do anything to counter their actions."

"Perceptor." The Neutral startles when Ironhide summons him by his designation, not expecting the weapons specialist to bother to learn his designation, and neither did he anticipate the Autobot willingly addressing him, "Did you hear _anything _else while aboard the ship, when you were being transported to Earth?"

Perceptor whips his helm left and right in staunch denial, "N-No. We were not t-too far into our journey before we were struck by a sudden asteroid field. During the confusion, I managed to escape from my watcher, and acquired the services of one of the escape pods. Thankfully the pod's destination coordinates were the same as the ship; otherwise Primus knows what planet or solar system I would have ended."

"We are all very fortunate that you are in optimal health, and here on Earth. You've risked a great deal, Perceptor." Optimus Prime admits, stopping his pacing, standing with his hands behind him, folded against the small of his back, "You have risked Starscream's rage…boarding an unfamiliar shuttle and gambling whether or not losing your way somewhere during your journey through the galaxy. Even now you chance your discovery by the Decepticons forces here on Earth, as well as the human inhabitants. These perils you have willingly faced. But for reasons unknown. As a Neutral, you are not bound by oath or duty to assist or warrant intelligence gathering to the Autobots. Perceptor, I ask that you please answer this question for me: **Why **are you here, after having risked so much?"

Perceptor raises his chin, staring back at the Prime with a stirring of pride and resoluteness, "Regardless that I have no faction, nor an interest in this war that has claimed so many I have loved, I do agree with one of your decrees, Lord Prime. _Freedom is the right of all sentient beings_. And whatever my master and this Fallen are planning, I fear that these humans will suffer equal, or worse, far greater loss than I."

* * *

Disguised once more in their Earth vehicle modes, Optimus Prime converses with Maggie before they depart and make the journey back to base. "He needs to rest, after such a long, tiring day." He warns her with regret, "Our conversation was not for the light of Spark, and I feel that we may have overwhelmed him."

Maggie pats the nose of the semi truck in small comfort, pushing her long blonde hair back as the wind picks up, tossing the gold spun strands around her face, "Just give him some time. He's a bit shy, but it seems like everything is turning out all right."

"I hate to trouble you once again, Maggie, but you may be having another visitor."

"Oh?"

"We have reason to worry that because of his involvement with us, Sam Witwicky may be in great danger." The Prime hushes his voice, not wanting to alarm his human friend, noting the rise of her pulse rate, and the concern radiating from her tensed posture, "Sam is also showing signs of extreme distress, agitation, short-term memory loss and disorientation. So much so that his parents pulled him out of this…_college_ of his, and begged Bumblebee to watch over him. As a precaution, we agreed it best to place Sam with a trusted ally, and away from any prying eyes. For a few days, at the very least…If you do not mind."

Maggie chuckles, "First, an alien robot as my guest. Next a young, excitable cute college student. If my husband hears about any of this, he will have a coronary for sure."

Optimus takes her amusement as a show of agreement, "Thank you once again, Maggie. We are in your debt."

"Are you kidding?" Maggie shakes her head as Optimus and the others carefully back out of her driveway, mindful not to run over and trample any of the tall hedges, "After all of your help with my research grants and government projects surrounding the study of your Cybertronian technology, I should be thanking you guys."

Maggie waves goodbye to the Autobots as they roll away from her house and property, never noticing the small, gleaming ruby orb following the disappearance of the three mechs.

The reed-thin Decepticon chirred knowingly, tilting its thin body to glance in the direction of the old barn. Ruby gaze flitting through different visual ranges and infrared scans, while taking several digital images, summarizing his intel and streaming the files to Soundwave.

Soundwave's talons rattle across the white and ivory plates of the satellite he is latched upon, the Decepticon parasite perched upon the floating surveillance vessel. He opens the data files and speed reads through them, agreeing with his symbiote's assessments of the perimeter and status of the Neutral Cybertronian.

They have waited long enough. Now was the time to act.

"_Decepticons. Samuel Witwicky and Cybertronian designated as Perceptor will converge onto same coordinates within the next twenty four hours. Move in and retrieve both immediately once the boy has made contact with the mech."_

To Be Continued…

Author's Note: I don't have anything against Ironhide of his character, and I hope readers don't think that. But honestly, as a warrior and a weapons specialist, I can envision the mech being utterly suspicious of the stranger in their midst, and sadly, shooting first and asking questions later, especially at the mention of a hated Decepticon.


	2. Chapter 2

Title: Nemesis Calling (2/?)

Author: dreamerchaos  
Sequel to 'All Hail Starscream'

Fandom: 'Revenge of the Fallen'.  
Rating: Slash. MATURE. Brief mention of **STICKY**. Dubious consent and gore thrown into several parts. Each chapter will have respective warnings.  
Pairing: StarscreamxPerceptor.  
Disclaimer: All recognizable characters are owned by Hasbro.  
Characters: Perceptor. Starscream. Various characters from the movie as well.

Summary: The time is finally at hand…return to Earth, destroy the descendant of the Primes, and harvest the Earth. Perceptor must decide whether to betray his master and warn the Autobots, and thus endanger the risk of suffering Starscream's wrath.

* * *

_The dim, overhead lights above the berth light the looming, moving figure rocking slowly above him. The sealed, locked private quarters muffling the faint whimpers and rattling growls, the ship's other Decepticon occupants' audios never catching the sound of their Lord claiming Perceptor once again._

_Talons rake down the overlapping contour of his stretched frame, plunging into his transformation seams. _

"_My precious pet…" The whisper of sharp kisses and denta, Starscream sighing Perceptor's designation into the microscope's audio._

_Perceptor tosses his helm, whining stiffly, hanging onto his master for dear Spark. Legs and thighs spread obscenely to accommodate the mech's weight and larger girth, his hands sliding helplessly along the grooves of Starscream's shoulders. _

_Starscream snarls in perverse approval as Perceptor twitches and wails, legs folding back further, willingly bending beneath the Seeker's every whim as the larger mech arches harder against his smaller partner. His cable pushing deeper, burying down to the root where it melds into his interface array._

_The stuttering friction of the ribbed surface of Starscream's cable along the interior walls of his port send a wave of heat throughout his frame, an electrical storm firing, boiling and alive, choking his internal systems, drowning him, while strangely at the same time leaving him aching for more. _

_From behind the tight seam of Starscream's chassis, a teasing glimmer of crimson trickles free. His smaller partner's optics widening in wonder, the Seeker's libido astounding him. "A-again..?" Perceptor gasps._

_Starscream leers, chest plates snapping aside, revealing the roiling, seething mass of his malevolent red Spark. _

_Against his will, Perceptor instinctively responds to his partner. Whimpering, watching with a slight taste of betrayal as his frame betrays him, chest plating slowly splitting apart, the blue nova of his Spark pushing forward to greet its ruby counterpart._

_Starscream purrs in rapture, diving forward, seaming their Sparks as one. Perceptor shudders, his cry overthrown by the Seeker's howl, the much larger mech pinning him even tighter against the smooth, flat berth, hips jerking in tight, short static thrusts, Perceptor dragging his fingers down whatever plating he can reach, digging deep and welding the palms of his hands around Starscream's shoulders._

"_Yessss." The Seeker nuzzles his grinning leer of sharp denta against Perceptor's throat and mandible, nipping affectionately, all the while muttering praise and wonder into the trembling cobalt and blue mech's dark audio, "Yes. Mine. My pet…My __**Perceptor**__."_

_The smaller mech cries out sharply when his mate drags sharp denta at an new, sharper angle, spilling a draught of energon from his cables. Perceptor shuddering as Starscream avidly laps at the beads of fluid, growling into the wet plating of his mate while he continues to nip and mark his territory once more―_

Atmosphere rips forth from his vents as Perceptor shoots upward from the depths of recharge, the haunting replay of memory files nipping at his ascending heels during his escape before he crests the surface, shattering the deep abyss of his stasis cycle.

Shuddering, Perceptor wraps his arms around his shaking shoulders, curling his knees against his chassis.

"Not again." Perceptor's optics sting from a mixture of exhaustion ― a restful recharge expertly eluding him for the past days ― and the abrupt, forceful onlining from his first uninterrupted recharge cycle, his optical receptors momentarily hypersensitive after a few Earth hours dormant. "Why do you persist in haunting me?"

Not to his surprise, there is no answer. He shudders within the darkness of the quiet barn, the online blue optics the only pinpoints of light.

No matter the distance that has separated them, Starscream continues to haunt him, even into the depths of stasis.

But what haunts him more than the replaying memory files, is the quickening pulse of his Spark ― the wash of fear and humiliation threaded by a lacing of desire and gratification ― and the low, slow burning ache between his legs taunts him.

"Mewl?" The stray feline slides her paw down Perceptor's shin, pawing for his undivided interest. When receiving another shudder from the large mech, she winds her way amongst his hunkered form, settling into the curl of his trembling upper limbs, before popping her head up from within the tight cradle of his arms. The feline rubbed the top of her supple, smooth furred head against his chin, butting against his mandible for attention.

Mindful not to crush the sleek, purring creature, Perceptor minimally tightens his embrace around the feline, burying his face into the fur of her side.

"Primus, please forgive me…" Perceptor prays for the gentile mercy of Primus above, "No matter how I try, I cannot find the strength to despise my master."

* * *

Bumblebee pulls into Maggie's driveway, carrying his human charge, while Maggie rushes to her own car.

"Hi Sam!" She waves exuberantly as Sam slides out of the driver seat, jingling her keys in the air, "I'm on my way to the airport to pick up Mikaela! Shouldn't be gone more than a few hours!"

Sam tiredly raises a hand to wave in her direction, mumbling a weak, "That's cool…" Bumblebee humming in worry as his charge mutters and groans before slinging his backpack over his shoulder, while pulling the other suitcase out of Bumblebee's back seat, "Bee needs to head back to meet with Optimus, but he should be here sometime right after you and Mikaela get back."

"Help yourself to the fridge." Maggie offers, clicking the drive door of her silver Honda wide open, "And don't mind Perceptor! He's a bit shy. But he's heard all about you, so I'm sure you guys will get along fine." She says with bright hopefulness.

Sam perks up momentarily at the mention of the Neutral. "Sounds like a plan." He waves to Maggie as she pulls the car around in the U-shaped driveway, the young women waving farewell as she pulls away to go pick up Mikaela and bring his girlfriend ― ex-girlfriend, he reminds himself, their separation official after Mikaela had announced their breakup over the phone ― Mikaela agreeing to join Sam and Perceptor, the Autobots growing steadily more concerned with the Decepticon sightings that were taking place with frightening speed, their attacks escalating on the human residences and cities.

Bumblebee honks his horn in farewell as he follows Maggie, gunning his engine before he takes off down the street, eager to complete his rendezvous with the other Autobots. The sooner he completed his journey, the sooner he can return to Sam.

For most of the hour, Sam paces his guest room. Stuffing his hands into his pockets, fingers trembling to grab a pen and paper ― or paint and a clean space of a wall ― and beginning stylizing the images that keep running in a repeating loop through his mind.

Letting out a sharp cry of frustration, curling his fingers through his hair and pulling hard, he collapses onto his knees, burying his face into the soft white and blue sheets of the bed, "Shut up…" He begs, while behind his clenched eyelids, the symbols continue to etch across the black canvas of his eyelids, amidst fireworks of green, yellow, and red light as he pushes greater pressured against his tightly closed eyes.

He's steadily losing his mind. "It's all in your head. All in your head…Get your act together, or people are going to get sick of dealing with your drama, and they'll toss you into the loony bin." Sure of this, and reeling from the horrible reality that he is suffering from the same madness as the illustrious Archibald Witwicky of their family, Sam pulls himself onto his shaky legs. Gulping air while trying to rub away the spots of lights dancing across his eyes when they open, tears trickling from his eyes when the pressure is relieved.

"Need some air." He mumbles, sliding his hand down the banister of the stairs as he makes his way down from the second story.

From the computer/reading room, Sam looks in the direction of the barn sitting innocuously about half a mile from the house.

He contemplates the choices laid before him: sitting and hiding in this room, holding his head and muttering for the pretty lights and alien symbols to leave him in peace…or settling his curiosity about the stranger that he had learned from Bumblebee's patchwork of songs and lyrics.

Sam purposefully yanks the back door open, jogging down the small beaten path leading to the barn, as if to outrun the madness that is trying to suffocate and bury him alive.

Perceptor looks up from watching the feline swish her way through a narrow crevice in the wall, going out on her daily hunt, the mech turning towards the barn doors when the young male wiggles his way between the stubborn, off kilter wood frames. "…You must be Samuel Witwicky." There are only a few humans that he is aware of who knows the existence of Cybertronians, and fewer within the age bracket of the one organic he is looking at.

The young male groans, rolling his eyes in dismay, "_Pleaaase _don't call me 'Samuel'. It's Sam. My mom uses Samuel when I've done something really stupid, or when I'm in serious trouble."

"All right, Samu—" He catches his mistake, correcting himself before he upsets the young man further, "All right, _Sam_."

Sam slides down to rest his jeaned posterior on the dusty floor, resting his back against the doorframe. "Heard a bit about you from Bumblebee."

"Oh?" Perceptor's lips twitch with the barest trace of a smile, "I hope it was nothing unsavory."

"No, nothing like that." Sam waves his hands in disagreement, "From what I gathered from him, you're not a Decepticon…But you're not an Autobot either."

Perceptor tilts his helm in quandary, "Is this a bad thing?"

"…Well." Sam stutters to find the right words, "Usually with humans, there is a word for someone who won't fight. It's not usually used in good context."

"And this word is?"

"…Pacifist."

"Hmm." Perceptor's processor runs through the data he has perused while on the internet, "Yes, I can understand human reactions to such a label. However, I must correct you. I was no pacifist. And neither were my friends."

"Then what were you?"

"_Survivors_."

"…I get it…But then I don't get it entirely." Sam admits sheepishly.

Perceptor folds his hands upon his lap, turning away from the small makeshift table and laptop, to better address the young human as he begins his impromptu lecture to better educate the young man, "Pacifists do not fight, nor do they resist. From my recollection of your human terminology, pacifists are generally termed as similar to stepping stones. Easily tread upon by foe and ally alike."

Perceptor raises a hand to halt the words that he anticipates will come from the young human, "Yes, I have not sworn my allegiance to the Autobots or the Decepticons, and thus that labels me as a dissenter because I choose not to fight for either military unit, but at the same time, I will not lie down easily and be taken by either. I will fight for my freedom, as will my friends. Many times we have dealt with minor skirmishes with the Decepticons on Cybertron. We simply try to avoid these conflicts to lessen the risk of injury, since our supplies were few and qualified medics far fewer. We ran raids for energon, bartered for goods with what we scavenged from salvage yards for credits, and then used those credits to legally purchase energon."

Sam folds his arms over his knees, resting his chin on his forearms, "Sounds rough." That is all he can manage to come up with to say, "You must have been running from and avoiding Decepticons for quite a while, huh?"

Perceptor chuckles with dry, dark humor, "Child, I have been hiding and running for longer than you or your family line have been alive." The Neutral crouches down, his sapphire gaze boring into the young man's, "I was very adept at avoiding detection until a mishap in trusting a seller of energon, and that betrayer led my friends and I to be captured."

Sam traces his fingertips through the dust, idly mapping a sequence of symbols regardless of his undertone whispers for his compulsive fingers to stop, "I couldn't imagine spending that much time running…hiding in fear every day." He whispers over the rambling of his mind pleading for the ancient symbols to cease haunting him. Already the wild array of whispering symbols and the low, echoing rumble of a dead alien language beginning to drown out every instinct and thought running through his head.

"I hope you and your kind never do." Perceptor answers sincerely.

Sam's hand trembles, eyes flicking across the patchwork of symbols tracing the dust. With his other hand, he grasps his shifting wrist, bruising the pale flesh as he mutters, "Stop it. Stop it. Stop it."

Perceptor leans forward, concerned about the abrupt change in his behavior and the panicked quality of his words. "Sam…" He gently traces the smooth knuckle of his hand against the young man's shoulder, "Your blood pressure is unusually high. And you are beginning to sweat profusely."

"…m'fine." Sam shudders, "J-just my head playing tricks on me."

Perceptor peers down, inspecting the jumbled glyphs. His vents hiss in alarm, the plating upon his shoulder expanding in surprise, "_Sam_. Those symbols…they are Cybertronian." He cautiously reveals.

"W-what?" Sam blinks owlishly, "Are you kidding me!"

"Sam, please calm down." Perceptor coaxes and guides Sam away from the doorway, leading him into the center of the barn. "Look closely, please." Holding the young human's attention, with a dexterous hand, the Neutral begins to carefully trace corresponding symbols into the dusty floor, a mirroring pattern to the glyphs that Sam has arrayed across the ground.

Sam gasps, falling onto his hands and knees. Eyes glazing over, swallowed once more by the unrelenting compulsion, the young human feverishly begins to correspond with Perceptor's writing, answering the larger mech's symbols with his own pattern. The human and Cybertronian starting a fast paced game of circling the broad expanse of the barn, their hands dancing, calligraphy spilling into life while they shuffle carefully about not to disturb the patterns already inlaid into the thickly caked dust.

"It keeps repeating itself!" Finally, with no more space to write, Sam rises to his feet, stumbling as if abruptly awaking from a dream. Perceptor follows to stand as well, blue optics curiously memorizing the ornate layout around their feet. "This…it's all in my head. But I can't read any of it! And it's driving me insane, tumbling and repeating and stuttering across my eyes no matter when I'm asleep, eating, reading, or just trying to think!" Sam rambles, hands flying, gesturing accusingly at the seemingly inoffensive markings.

"When did this start?" Perceptor inquires, crouched down again, mapping the tangle of glyphs around him.

"Ever since I touched a fragment of the Allspark." Sam prays that Mikaela has kept the shard well-hidden, while at the same time hoping that she hasn't removed the shard from its container and actually touched it. The young man fearing that this…affliction wouldn't befall her as well.

Perceptor's optics blink. Surprised by the young man's admission. Maggie and Optimus Prime had been kind enough to inform him of the incident years prior when Megatron awoke, and the struggle that took place in Mission City, and the subsequent destruction of the Allspark, leaving behind a single shard as all of the remains of the Cube. For another shard to remain, besides the one that Optimus Prime ordained to be locked away in secrecy among the humans…

"The Allspark passed on its knowledge to you." Perceptor theorizes. "You are its conduit, to carry its secrets, and reveal the truth hidden from us all."

"But what does it all mean?!" Sam demands, petulantly scrapping away two of the glyphs with the heel of his shoe, scuffing the decorated markings, "What's the point of me losing my mind while scribbling these words when I can't read them?"

"But I can."

Sam blinks again in surprise, "_You_?"

Perceptor huffs in testy annoyance, "I **was **a scientist, young Sam. And several times I came across the old text of the Primes. Many of the documents were scribed in their ancient language of their journeys throughout the neighboring solar systems. While I am certainly not a fluent speaker or avid reader, I can in fact decipher short sentences and specific words. Pity I do not have access to the ancient texts and the translation systems available on Cybertron, but I can interpret these symbols."

"Woah!" Sam is floored by the mech's admission, "Then here! Read these! Hurry!" He can't decide which symbol for Perceptor to study first, mindfully circling the glyphs, speedily contemplating the markings.

"Hmm." Perceptor buzzes with concentration, fingertips hovering over the delicate, dusty symbols. "How curious." He says in wonder.

"What?" Sam asks.

"It's in a…code." Perceptor shuffles back, turning partially to survey another handful of glyphs to his right, "No. It's a_ map_."

"For what?" Sam mirrors the taller mech, leaning over the set of glyphs which capture Perceptor's full attention, "and to where?"

Perceptor's azure gaze narrows into pinpricks, a frown of intense deliberation marking the slow tug of his words which follow, "Follow…the three kings…and the dagger's tip…My, what a quandary this is? I do not know of any kings, especially a trine, who ruled over Cybertron."

"A blade? A dagger, you said?" Sam frowns as well, "Does that mean there will be battle or conflict?"

"I do not know." Perceptor admits in shame, "The entire verse is like nothing I have seen before."

"What does the entire verse speak of?" Sam stands upright, balancing his hands on Perceptor's knee, the mech still crouched above the symbols, a moue of confusion marring his dark plating, "Maybe if you repeat it out loud, we can work it out together."

"…All right." Perceptor acquiesces, trusting the young man's instincts to lead them down the right course for action. Clearing his vocoder in a very human, but strangely settling gesture, the Neutral begins to speak softly, voice thrumming with the ancient words ― first speaking the verse quickly in Cybertronian to test that his inflections and translation is correct ― then in American so that Sam may understand, "_When dawn alights―"_

But he pauses. A shuffle outside. The noise giving him pause.

The wooden doors suddenly screech apart. Perceptor on impulse flinches away, optics flaring bright at the stranger who is illuminated through the doorway by the sunlight at her back.

"A-A-Alice!" Sam gasps, whirling around to face the petite blond woman, "What are you doing here?" He demands, futilely trying to shield Perceptor's hunkered form from her eyes.

The beautiful female smiles coyly, "I had to twist his arm, but Leo eventually told me where you were staying." She dares a step into the barn, gaze never leaving the young man, "I wanted to see you so badly, _Sam_." Alice purrs, seductively tilting her hips, canting the angle of her short summer dress.

Perceptor hisses behind Sam, causing the young man to spin around, "Alice, j-just ignore what you're seeing! It's all your imagination." While at the same time whispering hotly in panic towards Perceptor, "How am I going to explain _her_ to Optimus and the others?" He gestures towards the young woman.

"**Sam**." Perceptor moans in distress. The tremble of terror causing Sam to freeze in reaction. The Neutral's gaze not directed towards him, but towards the intruder behind him, gaze frozen, locked on the female like a gazelle staring down a stalking lion. "She…that is _not_ a female. And that thing is certainly not _human_."

The true meaning of Perceptor's warning sinks in. His stomach plummeting. "…oh shit." Eyes ticking to the side to shakily watch her every move, Sam carefully backs away from Alice, cringing when she smiles beatifically, her gaze sharpening, azure glow piercing her human façade. The skin around her mouth flaking away to reveal the rough, sharp jagged metal lines around her mouth.

"It's rude to speak so ill of a _lady_." Alice purrs, her optics twitching sharply towards the cringing Neutral, smiling knowingly when her gazes moves on to examine the glyphs surrounding the mech and young man, the two caught in their act, as shameful as human younglings found out with their hands still in the cookie jar, "But I promise to be gentle. I need both of you online for Lord Megatron. He's especially looking forward to meeting you again, _Sam_."

"S-she's a Decepticon." Sam stumbles back in horror, "Since when can Decepticons disguise themselves as humans?"

Before Perceptor can rise and stand, his processor sporadically pulling forth haphazardly strategies that will ensure that they escape unharmed and not Decepticon prisoners, he is abruptly torn from his rapid planning when Ravage shoots off the rafters, dropping to the ground, and then pounces onto his back. Curling his long, wicked talons into the Neutral's seams.

Sam whirls around when Perceptor shouts in panic, the mech falling onto his knees from the sudden impact, hands frantically clawing at Ravage's shoulders and back, failing to try and throw the yowling Decepticon off him.

"Perce―ggghh!" Sam is literally choking on his words, Alice screeching in rage when he steps away, making the critical error to turn his back on her. A flashing tongue-tentacle over a foot long shoots from her mouth, a striking metal serpent that stretches between her wide grinning lips, the thick metal appendage coiling around her victim's throat, dragging the kicking and flailing human towards her while the Decepticon's hands transform into thin, wicked silver claws.

"SS—Szzzaaaam!" Perceptor's vocoder whines with static, fear spiking the electrical feed. Reaching behind once more, he manages to grab and pull **hard** on the flicking appendage that falls just within his grasp.

Ravage shrieks in terrible rage when the Neutral yanks painful on his tail. The shoulder mounted missiles reacting to the mech's actions, registering as a hostile threat. The missiles fire in succession, one slamming into the roof of the barn, the other spinning to smash into the hayloft, exploding, sending a couple hundred pounds of burning hay through the air, stirring fires everywhere the torched straw lands. Above them, flames roar amongst the rafters and thatched roofing.

"IDIOT!" Alice snarls around her tentacle.

Outside, the sound of screeching brakes dragging black greasy tire tracks along the driveway. In the distance, Perceptor can distinguish Maggie's horrified cry, "Oh my God! Mikaela! Call the fire department! The barn! Perceptor's in there!"

Alice's lips ripple with another snarl, infuriated that there were witnesses that they now need to contend with. "_Ravage. __**Kill them**__!"_

"NO!" With a enraged cry, Perceptor maintains his grip of the furious feline Decepticon, earning shallow claw marks down a painted clavicle and shoulder strut as he rips the yowling mech off his back, swinging the mech around and around before grunting with exertion, hurling the sleek black four legged figure up into the burning hayloft. A mushroom cloud of smoldering hay and black smoke detonating where the Decepticon lands amongst the flames.

"You will not harm my friends!" Perceptor shouts, whipping around to face the other Decepticon, hands fisted, the scope on his shoulder swiveling to aim in her direction as if to mirror the mech's focused wrath.

Alice shrinks is surprise as Perceptor turns his attention towards her, rushing the much smaller Decepticon. When she raises her arm, the wrist transforming into a small Gatling gun, she isn't given the opportunity to fire a single shot.

Her eyes bulge when the Neutral darts forward, wrapping his grip around the tentacle trying to squeeze the atmosphere from Sam's lungs. The Decepticon squealing in pain and indignation when Perceptor twists his hands upon the length of her tongue, and with little grace but a larger stockpile of gusto, he wrenches his curled grip into opposite directions, ripping the long tentacle into halves.

Sam collapsed onto his knees, gulping air, cursing and clawing at the limp tentacle, hurling the appendage away in disgust.

Above the wheezing human, Perceptor roars in a string of unholy Cybertronian fury, refusing to back down when there was a handful of small Decepticons in front of him, and he has a safe chance of injuring, or defeating the pair.

Pushed into a proverbial corner by their threats and attacks, Perceptor reacts like any other beast that finds itself cornered. Fight or flight programs initializing.

In this rare instance, he chooses to _fight_.

Jerking Alice off her feet by the grip around the remains of her tongue-tentacle, the Decepticon still tied to the root of the appendage as the Neutral lifts her, before swinging her down, smashing her into the floor of the barn. Bits of metal components peeking through her human flesh, the compound fractures puncturing through the smooth skin surrounding her joints causing her to twist about, writhing in agony. A furious metal shriek tears from her gapping mouth, a wet waterfall of energon spilling forward, signify the severity of her damaged internal circuits.

"This building is collapsing!" Perceptor whips back around and shouts in warning, dismissing Alice and focusing on saving the human. Scooping up Sam, holding him against the thick safety of his chassis, the metal plating blessingly cool against Sam's flesh compared to the sizzling heat and choking smoke. Perceptor braces his arms to act as a shield around his far more fragile companion, and throws his shoulder into the partially open barn doors. Not having the time to be graceful or courteous about opening the door to allow for him to exit in a timely manner. Smashing a larger opening to allow his frame to fit through, narrowly avoiding a rain of hot burning debris as the roof begins to collapse.

Outside and far enough away from the crumbling burning barn, Perceptor gently lowers Sam onto the ground once they are safe from the heat and the blinding fog of hot ash. The young human coughing, wheezing from the exposure to the noxious smoke.

"T-thanks." Sam manages to wheeze gratefully, rubbing his sore bruised throat where Alice's tentacle had threatened to break his neck. His impromptu guardian still shielding him, the glowing flames an eerie glow around the Neutral's concerned, dark face.

Their victory in their escape is shattered by the shrill scream.

"Maggie!" Perceptor gasps.

* * *

Outside the house, Ravage circles the two women, snarling, gold optic narrowed on the blond and brunette. The Decepticon hissing in frustration when Maggie aims and fires another frigid blast from her portable fire extinguisher which Mikaela had brought from the house. Mikaela standing and guarding Maggie's back as the feline Decepticon circles, the young brunette shouting, swinging her large suitcase to act as both a weapon and a shield to block those deadly swiping large paws.

Ravage darted in, swiping at her face with a huge paw. Jumping away to avoid the wicked claws, Maggie curses when the extinguisher stutters with a choked hiss of cold foam, and then dies.

Gasping, Maggie jerks when Ravage coils to leap. "Watch out!" She shoves Mikaela away as the Decepticon pounces, the fiery blond hurling the expired extinguisher directly into Ravage's screaming face, the red metal hitting with a harsh _clang._

Her defensive measure only incites the Decepticon further. Howling, Ravage strikes out with another paw.

This time the claws hit their target.

The lightning flash of heat and pain steals her strength entirely. Limbs just as quickly draining into numbness, the lack of adequate blood flow causing her to swoon. Maggie is forced to the ground, clutching the long shallow cuts down her right arm, grimacing in agony as blood pools around her from the gapping wound on her thigh.

"Get away!" Mikaela screams, swinging around and smashing the suitcase into Ravage's face. Matching Ravage's screeches and hisses with her own as the young human bravely kicks at the Decepticon, beating the feline over the head and shoulders with the metal suitcase. Hands and fingers curled into claws, teeth bared in a sharp grimace, ready to tear at and beat the Decepticon away.

Perceptor leaps into the fray, swinging one of the porch chairs he hastily acquired before dashing into the middle of the battle, bringing the weapon around to smash into Ravage's side, lifting the Decepticon off all four legs, hurling the twisting, spiraling mech through the air to smash and tumble over the roof of the main house. Ravage shrieking, falling over the opposite side of the roof and disappearing from sight.

His weapon falls from between suddenly slack fingers. Perceptor stiffly stumbling over towards the blond woman, blue optics bright with dread and trepidation, "M-Maggie…" Perceptor whispers, crouching down beside the moaning, bleeding female, "…you are leaking vital fluids." The Neutral whines in dismay, and even though Maggie attempts to string together a weak smile, mouthing a 'thank you' for Perceptor having saved them, the microscope's helm still drops, chin bumping against his chassis, feeling like an utter failure for not protecting his human friend.

When Ravage leaps around the hedges, turning to face then and attack once more, Perceptor snarls, his fear and shame rolling together, the rage returning, and he is turning to face their attacker. The scope upon his shoulder swivels again, this time the barrel hums a sharp crescendo of whirring charges, the lens pointed at the Decepticon. The energy gathered, Perceptor's aim is true, and he releases a brief shot from his scope, the light cannon streaking a beam of hot laser in between Ravage's front paws.

The Decepticon yelps, and leaping backwards to avoid the sudden attack. The swiveling barrel is still directly on him when he darts to the side, Perceptor's face tight, optics narrowed, and a cold wall of calm settling over him. A heavy silence settles between the two Cybertronians. A standoff. Both the Decepticon and Neutral aware that the first blast had been a warning shot; Perceptor's aim had rarely been contested by his scientist counterparts before the Great War, the scientist literally able to thread a needle with the quality of his shot. And as much as he hated to use his talents, he would still aim and fire the weapon with deadly accuracy should the Decepticon make another move.

Snarling, Ravage slowly backs away, shoulders lowered, admitting defeat. For now.

His jagged teeth grinning in a leer as he stalks away from the humans and Neutral. Deriving a thrill of pleasure that he does not leave the battle without a drop of enemy fluids spilled across the soil.

Perceptor impatiently watches the Decepticon's every twitch and move as Ravage disappears into the thick foliage, the microscope not trusting that Ravage will let this hollow victory pass.

Finally he has to admit that the Decepticon has truly disappeared, no longer registering on his radar. A weak consolation. Very weak. _'How good was his radar, if he hadn't sensed the Decepticons in the first place?' _

"He won't be gone for long." He states. Perceptor powers down his light cannon, the barrel of the scope dropping with a minute dip of its posture.

"Since when did you have a weapon?!" Sam shouts, joining Mikaela, the young humans pressing their hands against Maggie's wounds to try and staunch the bleeding.

"It is **not** a weapon." Perceptor sharply retorts, arctic blue gaze raking over Sam, "The cannon has been primarily used to cut samples for study when I have been of scientific journeys among Cybertron's neighboring planets. Furthermore, and I thank Primus that Ravage was not privy to such knowledge, the cannon would not have enough firing strength to permanently maim or offline a mech. The damage would only act as a grievous annoyance at best."

"It certainly made that thing hesitate!"

"Yes." Perceptor stares the young human down, aware of Sam's fear and indignation, but screaming at each other will not solve anything. Perceptor's low, patient tones a low thrum, like a hand running up and down Sam's back, to try and sooth the human's fear and shock, "And you better pray that he doesn't take note of how I failed to fire a second shot. I worry that the next time, he will not be so easily deterred."

"I can't stop the bleeding!" Mikaela squelches with alarm and disgust as the blood continues to gush from the wound, the warm ruby fluid caking a wet layer of second skin underneath her hands and soaking the cups of her knees as the crimson flow pools around them.

Sam is the first to divert his gaze, mumbling an apology for having exploded and yelled at the Neutral. Leaning over her, Sam whispers affection and praise to Maggie, his face ghost white, squeezing Maggie's hand while he too tries to staunch the bleeding.

A flicker of movement from the barn, which he believes is just the dancing of the flames of the fire, draws Sam's attention. His head turning, expecting to see the roof of the barn collapsing and sinking into the inferno.

He immediately curses in alarm. "Oh FUCK!"

Dragging her way out of the inferno, half of Alice's face is scorched by the flames, glittering metal peeking through the blackened flesh. Scuttling across the dirt path with her disjointed limbs stretched out, crawling towards them in a crab like manner, she snarls at the huddled humans, the stump of her tongue-tentacle waving menacingly, a long supine metal tail splitting the skin of her lower spine, coiling behind her, a barbed tip waving above the small of her spine.

She leaps towards them, mouth agape, and mandible dislocating, stretching wide as if to swallow a human head whole, toothy grin expanded to rip and tear and take out whichever human who has the misfortune of her landing upon them.

It happens in slow motion. Next to the humans, as they cover their heads, and try to shield Maggie, Perceptor is darting forward.

But not in order to create a shield around the smaller organics.

His hand curls around the porch chair still resting abandoned on the ground near his pedes. Perceptor scooping it up with nary an astrosecond of a thought through his processor.

In midair, Perceptor brings the porch equipment crashing down upon her. Alice's body jerking like a broken doll, her shoulders punched into one direction by the force of impact, while the lumbar region of her back ringing with a wet pop and grind as she is hit.

Shrieking as she hits the ground, Alice claws fitfully at the dirt. Persistent, like any Decepticon worth its metal.

Perceptor lifts the large porch chair over his head, and brings it back down with a single echo of a crunch as the mech buries the legs of the heavy chair into the Decepticon.

The Decepticon gurgles, hands still clawing feebly at the ground, sporadically trying to reach around and scratch and dig at the metal legs of the chair impaling her torso; one metal leg punctures the back of her head, blond scraggly hair soaking with transmetal fluid as the bright blue liquid gushes from her wounds.

"I won't let you win." Perceptor yanks the metal legs from her body with a wet _'shunk'_, raising the crumbled weapon, and bringing it down again to deliver another crushing blow. Cursing in Cybertronian, German, and English, the Neutral directs his rage and terror at the paralyzed Decepticon assassin, not stopping his blows until the final strike severs her head from the trunk of the body. "I will...Not. Allow. You. To. Hurt. My. Friends!" He accompanies every word with another swing, smashing the weapon down again and again, the twitching figure resembling nothing more than a wet pulp by the time he is through.

"Perceptor…" Maggie moans, glazed eyes watching her larger friend as he pauses, staring at the carnage laid out at his feet, "…please..s-stop…she's offline.."

"..I-I-I…" Perceptor's shaking hands release the twisted remains of the chair, the curved legs and frame rolling clanging as it hits the ground. The Neutral squeezing his hands into fists, dark facial features twisted in remorse. Staring at his handiwork in disgust, "I-I'm s-so sick of n-not being strong enough t-to protect my friends…" He whimpers, shoulders curling, shamefully stepping away from the mangled body.

Sam swallows the urge to vomit at the sight of the twisted limbs and severed head. Privately cheering Perceptor for stopping the terror before she tried to kill them all. Turning his attention back to Maggie, "This isn't working." He hisses, "She needs a doctor right now."

"Yes. Quickly," Perceptor gently lifts Maggie, curling his hands around her shivering frame. "Mikaela, is it? You will take her to a medic." He commands, Sam running ahead and popping open the back door of Maggie's car.

"Wh-what?" Mikaela stares at him in shock, then turns to face Sam, "No! Sam! I'm not going to leave you here! These won't be the last Decepticons! You know that!"

"Mikaela, get in the car now!" Sam shouts, Perceptor coaxing Maggie to slide into the back seat, gently guiding and arranging her as comfortable as possible.

"I'm not going to leave you!" Mikaela stubbornly shouts right back.

"Young lady." Perceptor suddenly looms above her, glaring in disapproval. "If you do not help us, Maggie will…she will _die_." He lowers his helm, leveling his cold cerulean gaze with hers, impatient to get his friend to safety. And he is by fair means terrified in his own right, but by no means is he going to allow that fear to get to his processor. Nor will he allow this intractable child to continue wasting precious time when every second counted in an effort to save Maggie. "I will not allow this to happen. And I will not allow you to endanger her because of your refusal to comply. Now. Get. In. The. Car." He growls, each word matched by a pointed shove in the direction of the driver's side of the car.

"Fine!" Mikaela yanks open the door, hopping inside, angrily twisting the ignition key, but not without adding a surly, "But this is a stupid plan! There's no way you can beat the 'Cons."

"I don't plan to fight them." Perceptor tells her, turning to stare off into the distance. "I plan to do what I have always done best: Run and hide. Until the cavalry arrives."

"This is so stupid…" Mikaela whispers, her hands shaking upon the steering wheel.

Perceptor senses the young man's hesitation, "Sam." The Neutral whispers for only the young man to hear, "Neither of us can go with them. You know as well as I do, don't you? If you and I stay with them, we will only endanger our friends. It is not t_hem_ that the Decepticons are after. We need to go."

Sam swallows nervously, dreading the cold reality which Perceptor speaks of. But he knows that the mech is right. They didn't have much time.

But there is one last thing he needs to do.

"Here!" Sam slaps his hands on the edge of the rolled down window, pushing his cell phone into Mikaela's hand. "Bumblebee's on speed dial. Tell him what's going on, and the other Autobots need to know about the…things! The symbols that are running around in my head are a map! And Perceptor can read them!"

"…All right." Mikaela squeezes her hands over Sam's, the cell phone trapped between their intertwined fingers, "Sam. _Please_ be careful."

Sam grins cheekily, despite the cold sweat and the dust and the black grit streaking his shirt and face, "Hey, when do I ever get into trouble?" He whispers a forced chuckle.

"Sam!" Perceptor gestures by nodding his chin in the direction of the forest, "We have to go. _Now_."

"All right, I got it!" Sam squeezes Mikaela's hand one final time, before slowly pulling away.

He doesn't look back ― too afraid that he will lose the will to continue running in order to save the people he loves if he dares to look back one last time ― when he hears Mikaela carefully turn the car around in the driveway, racing the engine, tires rolling as fast but as safely as she can with her bleeding passenger.

Perceptor's giant footsteps drumming beside him as the larger mech rattles with worry, the Neutral fidgeting, throwing his blue gaze over his shoulder, warily analyzing their surrounds and their escape route before they duck into the tree line. Perceptor never too far from his young charge as they flee before the rest of the Decepticons swoop down upon them.

To Be Continued


	3. Chapter 3

Title: Nemesis Calling (3/?)

Author: dreamerchaos  
Sequel to 'All Hail Starscream'

Fandom: 'Revenge of the Fallen'.  
Rating: Slash. MATURE. Dubious consent and gore thrown into several parts. Each chapter will have respective warnings.  
Pairing: StarscreamxPerceptor.  
Disclaimer: All recognizable characters are owned by Hasbro.  
Characters: Perceptor. Starscream. Various characters from the movie as well.

Summary: The time is finally at hand…return to Earth, destroy the descendant of the Primes, and harvest the Earth. Perceptor must decide whether to betray his master and warn the Autobots, and thus endanger the risk of suffering Starscream's wrath.

* * *

They had to have been running for _hours_.

Perceptor doesn't appear too tired. His vents slightly overheated, but he is still greatly outpacing Sam.

The human wheezes for breath, stumbling, leaning his shoulder against a tall tree. "..w-wait.." He gasps, hand squeezing a tight fist upon his shirt and chest, "I n-need to…catch my breath.."

Perceptor willingly complies, halting alongside the gasping human. Bending down to blend into the natural shade of the tree, the Neutral dares to look up through the canopy of thick leaves, peering around the tall organic structures. "We do not appear to have been followed."

"G-good."

"But I do not know where we are."

"…don't you have…GPS?"

"It has not been adequately updated." Perceptor sheepishly admits, a weak flush of embarrassment tainting his voice, "And I was a bit rattled from what happened earlier, and as a result I did not triangulate our coordinates when we set off into the forest."

"So we're _lost_."

"…Yes."

"Terrific." Sam collapses onto his rump, smacking the back of his head repeatedly against the rough bark of the tree as he bemoans his rash of bad luck. "If we don't know where we're going, then the Autobots can't find us either. For all we know, they're heading in the opposite direction! It could be hours before they find us…"

"…My comm. systems still function. I could send out a distress beacon…"

Sam waits, "…I hear a 'but' coming."

"…But I am not familiar with the Autobot frequency. The distress beacon would signal across all open communication links. The Autobots comm. links. Human military network. And―"

"And the beacon will reach the Decepticons." Sam finishes with a weak moan.

Perceptor regretfully nods his head in agreement. "…it is a great risk. We do not know where our allies are, nor are we sure how close the enemy lies."

"Damned if we do, damned if we don't," Noting Perceptor's befuddled look, he clarifies, "Either we keep running and _hope_ we stumble across the Autobots while we run the high risk of stumbling into the Decepticons anyway, or we release a distress beacon and increase the chances of the Autobots finding us before the Decepticons, but still maintaining the chance of being discovered by the Decepticons first."

"It is a double-edged blade, so to speak." Perceptor agrees sadly.

"……" Sam wracks his mind, trying to think of any other plan that can help them. Damn it! He's no strategist; Sam was lucky to plan his college schedule without arranging two class periods during the same hour!

He sighs, "We don't really have a choice." Sam looks up towards the waiting mech, Perceptor awaiting his young charge's decision. "Fire away, Perceptor. Hopefully Optimus and the others will catch the signal first."

"As you wish." Perceptor follows the instruction as Sam dictates. Blue optics flickering with concentration, and he tilts his helm back, looking up towards the orbiting satellite grips circling the planet, while accessing the comm. link system, uploading the schematic code to send out their distress beacon.

* * *

Soundwave's protruding mandible clicks with surprise as the distress beacon pings across his comm. link. The Decepticon chirring in surprised delight, tossing a small virus into the river of code, the tiny corrupted signal rocketing down the connection, racing towards the origination of the distress beacon.

He is less than happy when the virus hits a firewall and implodes within itself, disintegrated by the virus protection hardware, but its mission has proved successful. The coordinates laid out before him, the satellite image stenciled across his optics narrowing upon a lush plot of upstate New York State.

"_Decepticons: Coordinates of the boy and Neutral downloaded. Commence recovery measures. Leave no one else online."_

_

* * *

_

"Optimus!"

"I know, Bumblebee." The Autobot leader floors on the gas, the rest of the soldiers separating from the caravan of troop, taking to the side streets in order to converge on the same coordinates.

"The Decepticons would be processor-fragged if they hadn't heard that!" Sideswipe roars past Optimus Prime, honking at the civilian throng of cars ahead that are impeding their path.

"Perceptor must have felt that he had no choice." Ratchet defends, "But his actions may have worsened their predicament, should the Decepticons be within range of their position."

"Less talking, more laying on the gas pedal!" Ironhide snaps, the truck cutting off the medic as he takes over another lane of traffic, "I'm ready to kick Decepticon aft! We need to get Sam and Perceptor out of there before the 'Cons arrive and begin to scour the area looking for them!"

"Agreed." Optimus Prime shifts into a parallel lane, "We must do everything within our power to protect Sam and Perceptor. Failure is not an option. Autobots, Roll Out!"

* * *

Sam nearly leaps out of his skin when a tinny shriek rips forth from Perceptor's vocoder. The Neutral's shoulders shuddering in epileptic fit, hands curling over his audios, fingers digging into his helm as he screams in agony.

"Perceptor!" Sam gasps.

The Neutral shudders, barely managing to remain on his pedes. Moaning in distress, face clenched in sharp pain, "T-that was very rude.." He stammers, fingertips digging into the side of his helm.

"What happened?!"

Perceptor waves away Sam's worried concern, smiling in apology for distressing the young man so badly, "Apparently a Decepticon tried to upload a virus to track my location." Sam's eyes bulge comically, jaw dropping, worriedly watching as Perceptor slowly and carefully straightens, flexing and rattling his shoulders, as if trying to shake off the prickling tickle of the dead remains of the virus. Perceptor continues. "It was a wicked one; my firewalls feel as if they have been dragged across hot coals when they snagged the nasty little thing before it invaded my systems."

"Are you **sure **that you're all right?" Sam doggedly follows Perceptor as the mech walks a few yards away, vents hissing to try and cool his frame, slowly regaining his composure after such a sudden attack, "I mean…I didn't know they would try to hurt you…" The human bites his lip, expression twisting between shame and remorse.

"It was my decision to make, and unfortunately someone responded unfavorably." Perceptor reminds the young man. Sam still appearing greatly concerned, Perceptor quietly assures the human once more, "I assure you that I am still functioning at optimal strength. But thank you for asking, Sam." His lips whisper a brief smile in the human's direction.

"Hey, I'm just that great kind of guy." Sam grins, shaking off the ill thoughts, following Perceptor's lead to settle his fears behind them and move on, "Gotta look out for you, big guy. There's a whole world out there yet to be explored."

"True." Perceptor admits. Scrutizing their every move ― keeping his optics on the sky, while ticking down to run scans on the rolling hills and trees around them ― as both human and Cybertronian dare to step out into the lonely blank expanse of a clearing, the break in the forest spilling into a curtain of light and cloudless sky, "I hope I am given the opportunity to explore this world further, beyond the screen and keypads of a computer."

"I hope you get your wish." Sam power walks alongside the mech, trying to keep up with his longer stride. The glare of the sun forcing him to shield his forehead and eyes with one hand, "How far do you think we've gone?" He asks.

"We have been moving for almost two hours. I estimate we have covered nearly seven miles, including the rough terrain where I had to carry you for fear of you falling and breaking one of your limbs."

"I told you I could scale down that hillside that you claimed to be a cliff." Sam mutters under his breath, "It had plenty of handholds!"

"If you call handholds those tiny holes and scraggly roots which wouldn't hold a human youngling, let alone you." Perceptor scowls. He had been horrified when the human had attempted to throw caution to the wind and try to scramble his way down the rough wall, Sam grippiing when Perceptor scooped him up and holding him firmly while the Neutral slowly and gracefully tread his way down the shaky dirt crevices and jagged wall.

"Nag, nag, nag." Sam teases with a roll of his eyes, earning another reproving glare from the tall mech. "It wouldn't take so long for us to cover a lot of ground if you had a new, sweet alternate mode. But _nooooo_. You've been too busy watching Youtube and downloading research articles instead of scanning an Earth mode."

"It does not matter if I scan a different mode or not, my original Cybertronian based form does not possess either wings, nor wheels. Therefore, our predicament wouldn't be helped by a 'sweet new mode', because we would still remain as we are, and we wouldn't get anywhere faster."

Sam childishly sticks his tongue out at the mech.

"Charming." Before Perceptor can begin to spin into another long lecture about the human's prolific desire to throw himself down a cliff-side in order to cover more distance at a greater speed ― and the complaints about Perceptor's choice of holding off on a mode ― he is halted by the small dot in the sky.

"…Sam?" The human looks up, watching the intense look on the Neutral's face, Sam trying to use his hand to shield the sunlight and look in the direction of whatever has caught Perceptor's attention, "Do any of the Autobots possess a flight mode?" The red and cobalt mech asks.

"…no." Sam dreads asking the reason for Perceptor's question.

Perceptor is suddenly standing at his full height, frame rigid. Vents frozen, not hitching an inch of movment. The growing dark mass reflecting in his azure optics, the Neutral numbly watching the figure roar towards their position, a silver spear seaving the blue sky.

Perceptor's low warning a whisper amongst the trees, the fauna having immediately gone silent, as if sensing the predator closing within their midst. "Sam. **Run**."

Sam's feet are flying at the first utterance of his name, both Perceptor and Sam flushed from their frozen position by the scream of F-22 Raptor engines.

Starscream fell from the heavens, a howling metal God spearing the clouds, talons spread as if the rake the brilliant blue sky, gnashing a grinning leer and metal plating armored for battle. The canvas of silver and gray tattoos marring his entire frame, Perceptor automatically reeling in alarm at the self-inflicted inscriptions.

"_**PERCEPTOR!" **_The very soil beneath the fleeing duo trembles as Starscream bellows, punching his fists into the nearest thick tree trunk, cracking the patchy gray and brown bark, "Don't you dare run from me!" The Decepticon threatens darkly.

"Don't look back!" Perceptor lags behind Sam after wasting precious astroseconds staring at Starscream dumbfounded, awed by the sight of Starscream and the modifications upon his frame. The Neutral shouting for Sam to keep running, racing to catch up with the fleeing human.

Sam ducks into the tree line, Perceptor quickly following, both of their shorter, slimmer frames allowing them to slip far more easily through the tall, stout organic sentinels.

Starscream is impeded because of his larger girth, wide wings preventing him from seamlessly following his prey. Snarling, the Seeker swings his arm around, punching and toppling one of the smaller trees, knocking it over as if battling a tower of toothpicks. "You think you can hide from me?" His arms transforms into a spinning gun, before the barrel snaps straight, locking along his forearm.

"Down!!" Perceptor dives for cover just as Sam leaps for shelter beyond a massive, fallen dead tree. The sputter of blaster fire dabbling and pocketing the grassy floor, beads of dirt and pebbles popping from the ground as the Seeker lays down a wave of destruction, the rain of gunfire mirrored by the curl of ashes and smoke, charred branches and huge chunks of trees crashing around the Neutral and the human.

Perceptor can just barely hear Sam's terrified screams over the mechanical whine of Starscream's gun. The red and cobalt too terrified to speak or shout, his throat locked tight by the wash of fear and panic. _'Starscream will burn the entire forest down by the time he reaches us.' _

Indeed, Starscream is frustrated when his paroxysm attack opens only a narrow gap within the edge of the tree line. Venting his rage, he lays down another wave of blaster fire, Perceptor ducking again, wincing as hot cinders dot his shoulders and shielding forearms.

Sam cries out, dropping and rolling, snuffing out the burning embers that have fallen upon his forearms, tiny flames licking up the sleeves of his shirt.

"N-now!" Sam's arms are aching from the first and second degree burns, but he knows they need to seize the second lull when Starscream ceases firing to survey thesubsequentepidemic of flamed ruins and cinders. Pushing onto his feet, Sam screams for Perceptor, "We have to run!"

When Perceptor darts from his shelter, the cluster of trees a shrunken memory of their former selves from the chunks of wood ripped away under gunfire, Starscream leaps into the air, thrusters online, the Seeker rising above the canopy, peering through the thick organic cover marring his tracking of the Cybertronian and much smaller human.

"This isn't going to last forever." Perceptor and Sam jump from shadow to shadow, another moving large angular black shadow mirroring their racing steps. Sam wheezing, red in the face, while Perceptor is oddly calm as he continues to speak, "He can't be stopped."

"W-we―" Sam nearly trips over a slick patch of dead leaves, "We just..need to keeping..going until the..Autobots get here…" He manages through each gasp.

"_Sam." _Perceptor wraps his hand around the human's shoulder, forcefully halting Sam, the sharp arrest leaving dark bruises upon the young man's tanned flesh when he forces the human to stop and listen to his warning. "I'm sorry. I was wrong. The Decepticons found us first. Both of us will not last long enough for the Autobots to get here."

"Don't say that!" Sam snaps, glaring at the mech, hands twisting around the unmoving grip surrounding his upper torso and shoulder, "How can you say that?! I made a promise to come back! We're going to get out of here. _Together_!"

"No." Perceptor refutes, "Not together, we won't."

Out of the blue Sam jerks rigid, eyes as round as dinner plates as the electrical current surges from Perceptor's hand, the sudden shock traveling in a wave, thrumming through his carbon-based form.

The electrical current seizes just as swiftly as it had struck. Perceptor carefully lowers the paralyzed human, arranging his twitching arms and legs more comfortably.

"W-w-what..ddiidd yoouu…doooo?" Sam's head rolls helplessly, frightened eyes looking up into Perceptor's apologetic dark face.

"I'm am so sorry, Samuel. I know it hurt. But the paralysis is temporary, it will last only a few minutes." Perceptor softly promised while carefully, so gently, resting his fingertips upon the human's chest, quashing his worry that his rashness may have caused unintentional harm, timing the human's pulse rate and breathing until he is comfortable that Sam is for the most part undamaged save for his slurred speech, "But I can not let you risk your life when there is something that I can do to halt Starscream before he can get his hands on you. He would _kill_ you."

Sam's eyes manage to widen further, the realization of Perceptor's intent sinking in. Mouth opening and closing, he twitches a few times, trying to shake his head. "..n-n-n-noooo..donnn't…b-be a hero."

"I'm no hero, Sam. To be perfectly blunt, I am utterly terrified about what I plan to do. I'm a bit of a coward about the fact that I am going to confront my master." Perceptor's serene, gentle face fills his vision, the Neutral smiling poignantly, "What a shame that our time together has been so short. I am happy that I had the chance to meet you, Sam. I am sorry that I will not be able to explore this world as I had hoped."

Sam's words ripple with a low growl of frustration and a sob of denial, "Don't!"

"Goodbye, Sam." Perceptor steps around the young man, making sure that his stunned body is well hidden in the shadows of a dense cluster of trees. Gracing the horrified human with one final smile, the Neutral turns away, running in the direction of the farthest tree line. Followed patiently by the whine of Starscream's thrusters, the Decepticon tracking the glint of paint and movement peeking just below the thick foliage.

* * *

"_**PERCEPTOR!!"**_

The Neutral darts out of the trees and into another clearing. Cursing his sense of luck and bad direction, he staunchly refuses to look back, the whine of engines and the heat of the Seeker's thrusters chasing him.

"Do run away, _Pet_." Starscream's landing causes nary a tremble as he lands with fluid grace belying the seemingly awkwardness and design of his Earth based modifications, his footsteps moving at a steady pace, and fast approaching. For such a large creature so commonly witnessed soaring across the heavens, the Decepticon is equally terrifying on land, his sinewy, long legs giving him far more distance spanning gait with each step, "Keep running if you think it will make a difference, Perceptor! The chase will only stir my transfluid that much further!"

The red and cobalt prey ducks and weaves around the thinning patches of trees, the terrain clearing, Perceptor not realizing that he is drawing closer to an forest ranger station, the trees cut back and thinned away to prevent the risk of fire breaking out too close to the buildings.

If any rangers are on duty, they are in for a shocking surprise.

The smaller red and cobalt metal giant crumbles to his knees due to a swift kick to the back of his ankle and shin, his headlong sprawl onto his hands and knees sending several of the vehicles in the dirt parking lot spinning. Perceptor shrinking into a ball, fingers wrapped around the sparking, dented silver main strut and thinner support beams tracking up his ankle, while Starscream looms above him, sneering in guileless pleasure.

"You always tease me, Pet." Starscream purrs sibilantly, pinning the Neutral to the ground for good measure, nuzzling the dark mandible, warm atmosphere brushing his dermal plating as Perceptor gasps in throbbing pain and the surge of adrenal fluids racing throughout his cables and circuits.

"M-Master, no…" Perceptor beseeches Starscream for mercy, trying to slither free from the Seeker's talons. Whining when Starscream curls his fingertips in between the seams peppering his back strut, the wicked claws tangling among the hypersensitive wiring.

"**Now** you entreat me to be gentle!" Starscream snarls his fingertips deeper, twisting tighter, growling as his pet cries out, "After daring to flee from the ship! Hiding amongst these little bipedal insects! And you dare to run from me yet again! Further, you have hidden the boy from me!"

Perceptor's undamaged pede scrapes the dirt and pebbles, feebly continuing to try and crawl away. Fingers gouging the soil as he cringes and stutters from the lancing shards of pain raking down his back strut. _"I'm sorry!"_

"_Sorry_!" Starscream pushes down, scraping Perceptor's chin across the ground, "That's all I ever hear from you! But oh! Never sorry about your error! You feel regret only because you have been caught in an act of betrayal! Daring to betray me!Your Master! _**Starscream**_!"

Perceptor sobbed, crying out, his processor reeling from the screaming feedback from the neural sensory net around his spinal column. Starscream's talons feeling as if they curled completely around the stacked vertebrae unit, the twisting grip threatening to rend his spine from his frame.

Starscream arrests his assault when he notices the trickle of crystal-shined lubricants dew dropping down from the corners of Perceptor's pained, tapered blue optics, the Neutral whining under the hush of his vents, a spill of lavender dashed liquid seeping between the plates above his spinal unit, signaling the severing of several wires ― thankfully recoverable by the time his repair systems come online and during the next joor the repair maintenance is finally through ― the bundled chains of wires nicked by the edge of Starscream's talons.

Carefully, meticulously retracting one talon at a time, Starscream uncurls his wicked grip from Perceptor's internal systems. Lapping idly at the glistening fluid slicking his claws, leaning over and flicking his glossa to capture the drops of lubricants tickling the flushed dark plating of his cheeks, energon flooding the undersurface of his dermal plating from heightened stress and humiliation, creating a flush of distress across Perceptor's cheeks.

"Hush, Pet," Starscream soothes, curling his hands around Perceptor's shoulders, pulling his pet into his embrace, ignoring while Perceptor tries to squirm free, hiding his grimacing face from the Seeker, "Hush. You acted poorly, but I have been unapologetically unkind. Too harsh, and I caused inadvertent damage." It's the only apology that Starscream deigns to provide, but it is high praise for the Seeker to offer any semblance of regret, let alone admit to an admission of guilt.

Perceptor whimpers, burying his face into his master's neck while Starscream nuzzles and croones to his shivering pet.

"_Starscream!" _A Decepticon helicopter shoots above them. Perceptor noting with alarm that the mech is heading in the direction of Sam's hideaway, "_Prime is right on my aft_!" The helicopter warns the Seeker over the comm. link.

"Where are the other Autobots?" Starscream demands.

"_Several miles behind him! Lord Megatron will intercept the Prime before the Autobot can reach the human! Megatron commands you to follow me and assist."_

"_Lord Megatron _can suck camshaft." Starscream's crude insult stuns both his pet and the other Decepticon. "I have what I came for! Let Megatron enjoy entertaining his brother on his lonesome!" The Seeker stands, pulling Perceptor up to dangle within his arms several feet off the ground.

"_Wait! Where do you think you're going?!"_

"Back to the _Nemesis_," Starscream directs his next words to Perceptor, "Transform right now. Do not make me repeat myself."

Starscream cackles with mirth, "I'll be curious to see whether Megatron manages to defeat Prime, or if he will end up sleeping with the fish yet again." Starscream places Perceptor within his cockpit, his pet's microscope form shrunk down to allow for a comfortable fit. Insulting his fellow Decepticon further by not responding to his infuriated hails, Starscream transformers, blasting a long strip of exhaust and discharged heat waves as he spears towards the clouds, and stabbing a path through the stratosphere, engaging his thrusters and guidance system, running over his calculations for when he would arrive aboard the decrepit stationary Decepticon ship.


End file.
